


i’m paid to multitask

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: When Poe lands on the planet he feels ruthless cold seeping through his bones, making him ache. This is the first and last time he lets Hux pick their rendezvous spot.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58
Collections: Hoelidays Gift Exchange 2021





	i’m paid to multitask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarthAstris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/gifts).



> Dear DarthAstris, I combined your _huddling for warmth_ request with your prompt about Hux properly spying for the Resistance and used it to mess with the canon timeline a little. I loved all your requests and found your letter super helpful. I had a blast writing for you and really hope you like this. Happy hoelidays! ♥
> 
> Thanks to Sola for her invaluable suggestions and betaing. All remaining errors are my own.

When Poe lands on the planet he feels ruthless cold seeping through his bones, making him ache. This is the first and last time he lets Hux pick their rendezvous spot.

Everything is covered in snow, including himself, by the time he makes his way to the wide structure in the distance. It’s a massive, fortified circular building. He circles the place twice, noting its smooth gray surfaces, but no entrance appears. He touches his fingers to the steel and they stick to the surface, leaving an imprint when he removes them. There’s no keypad, no screen, no analog lock anywhere. Just clean, smooth walls. He sighs, his breath visible in the cold, and starts to make his way back to the ship to get his comlink. He’ll yell at Hux for wasting his time after making sure he’s fine and hasn’t gotten caught, tortured, and killed.

“Dameron, where are you going?” says a familiar voice behind him, sounding exasperated.

When he turns around, there’s Hux, in full First Order uniform, from the gloves to the greatcoat. Poe recoils. The few times they’ve met he had worn civilian clothes. They looked odd on him, fitting him like another kind of uniform; one that hadn’t been tailored to his measurements. A hand me down.

“Where were you?” Poe asks, genuinely annoyed and freezing to top it off.

“I was inside. I amused myself watching you aimlessly wander the perimeter from the holocamera’s live feed but it got boring rather quickly.” He pauses and points to the floor on his left, as if he is presenting an obvious answer. “There’s a hatch.”

The hatch is more like a narrow manhole; cramped and tiny. How was he supposed to see this? Poe wonders.

They go down a long ladder that cuts off almost halfway through. Poe’s hands are freezing from the cold steel by the time he reaches the last rung and he is amused by Hux actually offering him his hand. _What a gentleman_ , he thinks as he takes it. _He’ll open the door for you right before destroying your home planet_. It amuses Poe enough that he chuckles to himself.

“What?” Hux asks, suspicious.

“Nothing. I don’t suppose you have some hot chocolate waiting for me in there, do you?” Now that Poe isn’t outside in the middle of the snow-covered terrain, the snow is beginning to melt, soaking his clothes. He didn’t think to wear more than his jacket on top of his clothes, so he’s not exactly dressed for the occasion.

Hux rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores him.

They make their way through a long, dark tunnel. The only light comes from the flickering red glowpanels on each side of the wall. After another five minutes, they reach a door with a screen pad on the right. The kind of thing Poe was hoping to find up there.

He watches as Hux removes one glove, brings his hand close to his mouth, blows on it, and then flexes his long, elegant fingers before pressing his palm to the screen. The light on it immediately turns green.

The inside is pretty much what Poe expected. Long, shiny, sterile grey surfaces everywhere. It’s not colder than outside — it could hardly be — but there’s a deeper, inhuman cold coming from the room.

“What is this place anyway?” Poe asks.

“It’s an abandoned First Order base. A research facility.”

Poe walks the length of the room. There’s a communication console in the middle and a chair in front of it but little else. The walls seem to be made of secret compartments, sliding doors. Only one has an actual keypad, though. “What’s through here?”

“Surveillance room,” Hux says and takes out a keycard from his coat to open the door.

It must be where Hux was before Poe got here. There’s a wall covered in screens and a chair in front of it but little else. There’s something hanging by the wall to his right but he ignores it, wanting to get out of the room. It’s too tiny for more than one person, suffocating with the two of them inside.

He moves in front of the other doors and presses his hands against the surface but there’s no give.

“If you’re done exploring...” Hux says, annoyance coloring his words.

“Why was this place abandoned? You guys like your hostile environments, don’t you? You believe it builds character to freeze to death or something like that, right?” Poe says, walking to the console. He scans the buttons carefully and Hux comes to stand next to him.

“This place was abandoned long before my time.” He swats Poe in his right arm, as Poe reaches for a button. “Don’t touch anything. Leave that.”

The silver button Poe presses opens the secret compartments and as Poe approaches, he asks, horrified, “what is that?”

Vats are lining up the walls, an opaque fluid filling them, and inside—

Poe flinches back as the doors slide suddenly shut. He turns back to Hux, who is in front of the console, having just pushed the button again.

“As I said, it was a research facility.”

“Were those people in there?”

“Not exactly,” Hux says airily but offers no further details.

Poe wonders if they ‘weren’t people’ in the same way the people the First Order kidnaps, slaves, exploits, tortures, and murders aren’t people. “Well?”

“They were experiments. They were attempting to bioengineer a — certain type of individual.”

“What type of individual?”

Hux looks away, busies himself tracing the edges of the station. “Force users,” he says at last.

The cold Poe feels possessing his body has nothing to do with the climate or the creepy place they’re in. “Why did you come here?”

“To meet you.”

“No, Hux. Don’t play stupid. Is Kylo Ren looking into—?”

“No, no. I would sooner die before seeing him build an army of Force users. He wants the opposite, in any case. I told him I would make certain there was nothing salvageable here. He knows how I feel about the Force, so, in this at least, he believed me.”

Hux seems like he’s telling the truth and Poe can’t think of a reason why he would lie, but Poe also doesn’t know him, doesn’t know much about him past the propaganda.

“Look, do you have the intel? I want to get out of here.”

Hux procures a data chip and presses it against his palm. The fabric of his gloves is warm, Poe registers.

Poe inserts it and goes quickly over the information. “Hey, what’s this in—?” he’s asking just as they hear a noise outside.

Hux moves to the surveillance room but doesn’t seem to have found an answer by the time Poe follows him inside a second later.

Poe quickly scans the screens until he spots it. “It’s the hatch. It’s—”

“Going on lockdown mode,” Hux says at the same time that a mechanical voice booms loud over the intercom system.

 _Initiating routine lockdown protocol_ , it says again and again.

When he turns around, Hux is already by the console. He doesn’t need to approach him to know he’s failing at whatever he’s attempting to do. “Can you stop it?” Poe asks, reaching Hux’s side, fighting the urge to push him aside and take over even though he wouldn’t know how to stop it either.

Hux moves away and throws himself down on the chair, placing his elbows on his knees and carding his fingers through his hair. “No, we’re trapped.”

Poe breathes out. “For how long? How long is this routine lockdown?”

Hux turns to look at him, something desolate in his gaze, and says, “six hours.” He says it the way someone might say _sixty years_.

Poe can’t help but laugh. “That’s it? That’s fine. Man, I thought you were going to say we would be trapped here for _years_.”

“You don’t understand. Lockdown means no lights, no heating system. No generators.”

“It’s six hours. We’ll live.” As soon as the words leave his mouth the room is bathed in complete darkness. “It’ll be fine,” Poe says into the darkness, his self-assurance only wavering a little.

He guides himself to the cramped surveillance room using his datapad’s screen and sits down to send a message back to the base.

“What are you doing?” Hux’s voice comes out loud and panicked.

“Just telling people not to wait up.”

There’s a noise, a bump and softly whispered _fuck_ from outside before Hux reaches the threshold and says, “don’t tell them where you are.”

“Buddy, they already know where I am.”

“What?” Hux asks, affronted.

“You think I would come to meet you here alone and keep the location a secret? How stupid do you think I am? I don’t exactly trust you.”

“You should. I am risking my life for you.” His words sound louder in the eerily quiet space between them.

“For me specifically? I’m touched,” he says, placing a hand over his heart, though he doesn’t know how much Hux can see in the dim light coming from his screen.

Hux huffs out an annoyed sigh and pushes past him on the tiny space, almost falling on Poe’s lap in the process. He reaches out a hand to steady him but Hux bats him away and moves to the wall on the far side.

“What are you even doing?” Poe asks.

Hux grabs the bags hanging from the wall and says, “sleeping bags. It’s going to get even colder and I don’t intend to freeze out here.” He presses his unoccupied hand against Poe’s shoulder and climbs over him. There’s a brief moment where Poe’s legs are between Hux’s thighs and it takes him a second to catch up.

“Did you say bags, plural?” he says, following Hux to the other room.

“Yes, two bags. One for each person operating the station.”

“You made them sleep in sleeping bags on the floor by their work stations?” Poe asks watching Hux unzip them.

“They had around the clock shifts, so I suppose so,” Hux says, completely unconcerned. Like these aren’t just normal working conditions but _optimal._

“Right. Totally healthy work environment.”

Hux places both sleeping bags on the floor, unzips, and stacks them one on top of the other. "This was before my time, as I explained."

“You would give them a comfy cot, right?” When Hux sits down on top of the bags, Poe asks, “what are you doing? You’re not keeping both bags to yourself.”

“They’re First Order property.”

“I don’t care. You’re sharing.”

“Very well,” he says, longsuffering.

Poe is already starting to feel cold creep in past his wet layers and making its way to his bones. He sighs. It’s going to be six long hours.

Hux agrees to his first suggestion easily enough and in a minute their bags are zipped together. Poe is still freezing, though. He can’t feel his toes and his clothes are clinging to his skin.

His second suggestion is met with some resistance.

“If I give you my coat then _I_ will be cold,” Hux says.

“You already are. I can hear your teeth chattering from here. I didn’t ask for your coat, anyway. I said ‘let’s share.’“

“There is no sharing. If you have it, it won’t cover me.”

“Unless we’re closer,” Poe says slowly, trying to muster some patience.

“How much closer?” Hux asks suspiciously.

Poe sighs and flexes his fingers. They hurt. “Close enough that it’ll cover both of us.”

“That would be right next to each other.”

“I don’t have cooties. Can you say the same? Actually, I don’t care at this point. Come over here.”

Hux cautiously moves closer, until they are on their sides in front of each other, and drapes the coat over them. It’s an improvement, a genuine improvement. It’s also a short-lived one.

“This isn’t actually much warmer,” Hux says after approximately ten excruciating minutes. He pauses for a moment. “You’re wet and making me colder. You need to remove your wet clothes or remove yourself from the bag.”

Poe laughs, though it comes out shaky from the cold. “If your goal was to get me naked, you didn’t have to woo me like this. I prefer the direct approach. Buy me a drink, help me take down a deranged megalomaniac. That kind of thing.”

“You must have some survival training. You know I’m right.”

“I know. I didn’t want to somehow offend you.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “It’s just human skin. I went to a military academy. It’s nothing I haven’t been exposed to.”

Poe manages to take the jacket off, but his fingers are numb and the buttons of his shirt are tiny, so they keep slipping.

“Let me do it. You’re letting the cold in,” says Hux. His gloves make the task difficult, though, and he struggles to take them off until Poe grabs his hands and removes them for him; the act seeming obscene. He does each of his fingers until his bare hands are trapped between Poe’s. He rubs their hands together but Hux quickly dislodges his grip, moving his hands to the front of Poe’s shirt.

“We need to be closer. We need to be touching,” Hux says when Poe’s gotten his shirt off. “Don’t say something impertinent.”

“I won’t but with the way you act like human contact is a form of torture I didn’t expect you to suggest it.”

Poe presses his cold hands against Hux’s clothes and pulls him closer until he moves to lie on top of Poe. They groan simultaneously, feeling immediate relief; chasing each other’s warmth.

Hux is actually heavy for such a skinny guy, so after a while his weight on top of Poe becomes uncomfortable. They lie back down on their sides and Poe tangles their legs together, slotting Hux’s left leg between his and pressing his hands on his back. It’s overly familiar but it’s also necessary.

Poe’s tired and cold and restless. He drums his fingers lightly on Hux’s back, but Hux takes offense to it and makes him stop. He’s not the best at staying still and the more he relaxes his body the more his muscles ache.

He shifts and stars tracing soothing patterns against Hux’s back instead. Hux lets out a quiet, cold breath against Poe’s skin and then gives out a full-body shiver.

“You’re cold?” Poe’s actually feeling pretty warm right now.

“You’re making me cold. I was fine and then you passed all your cold onto me.” It must be true because his voice comes out shaky and breathy.

“Come closer. Move—” Poe tries to maneuver him closer but there’s a lot of him. Just endless, awkward, long limbs and Hux refuses to cooperate; lying with his arms stiff by his side and his legs locked in position. “You’re choosing to be cold. That’s not on me,” Poe finally snaps.

“I don’t want to move closer,” he says but shuffles forward until he’s tucked against Poe’s chest, the cold tip of Hux’s nose brushing the hollow of his throat.

Poe sucks in a startled breath. It’s close, alright. It’s also almost nice. It would be nicer if Hux wasn’t all bones and hard angles. It’s kinda like cuddling Beebee.

He lets out a laugh that probably comes out a little maniacal, due to the quiet that surrounds them and Hux looks up at him, bringing their faces close together.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking about my droid.”

Hux huffs out an annoyed breath, like he thinks Poe is lying and making fun of him. It’s too dark to really see, but Poe imagines his displeased expression, his breath coming out of him like a mist, reaching Poe until he could swallow it, warm it inside his mouth.

Poe shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it clings.

The restless energy Poe feels must be contagious because after a while Hux tenses under his hands; anxiety starts rolling off of him in unpleasant waves.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Poe asks.

“Nothing.”

“Are you worried about staying here longer than expected? You have a solid alibi.”

Hux scoffs. “No, Ren either knew about this and found the idea of leaving me here trapped and freezing for six hours amusing or didn’t care to research this place at all. As you said, it wouldn’t be hard to prove my version of events.”

“Okay, but?” Poe prompts, knowing there’s more. There’s always more with Hux.

“It’s more worrying that _I_ didn’t bother to research it. I was relieved to have found an excuse to get away.” Hux laughs humorlessly. “It’s not as if my absence would cause chaos, or as if my presence prevents it.”

It gives Poe the urge to comfort him despite Hux’s entire demeanor making it seem unwelcome. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.” And even though he knows it’s more complicated than that, he adds, “it’s not life and death. It doesn’t matter if you overlooked this.”

Hux moves to rest his bare hand against Poe’s flank but says nothing.

“Do you genuinely believe you can take him down?” Hux asks some time later. His voice low, the words almost lost to the darkness.

“Yes, I do.”

“Because you’re the good guys and that means you’re meant to win and live happily ever after, or—?”

Poe moves his hands from Hux’s back to his arms, feeling the starchy fabric under his palms. He rubs them up and down until he can imagine he’s left his fingerprints all over it. “Because I believe in what we’re doing. I believe in our people. That kinda includes you now, by the way.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re helping us, regardless of your reasons.”

“You know my reasons.”

“Yeah, so maybe the winning and happily ever after can apply to you too. If you want it.”

Hux raises his head, miscalculates the distance, and his nose brushes against Poe’s chin. He moves further up and when he scoffs his breath brushes Poe’s lips.

“I don’t think so.” Hux’s words are cold, but everything else about him is a source of warmth so Poe doesn’t mind moving a little closer.

“So what else is new with you?” Poe asks out of sheer boredom. He’s hesitant to check how long it’s been, in case he finds out that it’s only been _minutes_. “Got any new hobbies? Met someone? Tried a new recipe? Played any games?”

“There is a spy game I’m playing with some exciting life or death stakes. It’s my new hobby,” he says sarcastically.

“Okay. What about the rest? You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys cooking but is there anyone new in your life?”

“Besides you?”

“I’m not a new addition. Remember when you hosted me in your home and your boss went through my mind? I meant like a handsome new tyrant you find yourself daydreaming about.”

“No tyrants, no.”

Poe sighs. His friendship overtures are wasted on Hux.

“Hey, I wanna change positions. Do you mind?” Poe’s muscles are locked in place and he groans when he gets to stretch his limbs.

“How should we—?”

“Get behind me,” Poe says, rolling onto his side.

Hux tentatively moves closer and places his arm across Poe’s midriff. Poe moves back and settles against him more firmly.

Their proximity and the darkness serves to create a bubble of intimacy around them; the only sounds that reach them come from their breaths. Poe doesn’t think much of it until Hux starts shifting against him.

“Are you cold again?” Poe brings their bodies even closer together but it turns out the answer is _hard_. Poe considers not saying anything, but really, this is the last thing they need. “Hux, are you kidding me?”

“It was your idea to get in this suggestive position,” he says, moving away.

Poe would rather deal with Hux’s hard dick than with the cold, so he doesn’t let him get away, pulling him closer instead, keeping his hand on his hip.

Hux groans quietly when his dick rubs against Poe. He makes an abortive thrusting motion with his hips, seeking friction, before stilling himself; his body one long line of tension.

“There’s nothing suggestive about this, anyway. It’s just some light cuddling,” Poe feels the need to point out.

“I don’t cuddle,” he says venomously.

Poe turns his head back. “Ever? Honestly, that explains _a lot._ “

Poe startles when he feels Hux’s lips brushing against his jaw and then against his mouth; a hurried, awkward press of lips, almost a peck. “What are you doing?”

“Shutting you up.”

“I wasn’t talking.”

“You are now,” Hux says and rolls Poe over. He brings their mouths together again, more insistently this time, until Poe parts his lips.

He groans at the heat of Hux’s mouth, pressing against him harder and chasing his warmth. He pushes Hux back until Poe is half-lying, half-sitting on top of him.

Poe wants to tell him _you’re doing this for the wrong reasons. You’re just feeling cold and miserable_ but opts for, “we can’t, it’ll make us colder. We have to save energy.”

Hux exhales, his breath against Poe’s skin and it gives him the urge to shift and rub against him and feel him, hot and hard and big and coming helplessly against him. It’s a short-lived urge but it was there.

“How long has it been?” Hux asks.

“What?”

“Since the lockdown started.”

Poe reaches for his datapad, taking his hand out of their warm shelter, and says, “almost three hours.”

“Oh, good.” It sounds anything but.

Poe doesn’t have the greatest impulse control. _Think of it like a test_ , he tells himself.

They’re both hard and miserable and the chilling cold does nothing to improve their situation. It’s not easy to have a guy you have a certain _rapport_ with pressed up against you, hard and wanting.

“You didn’t want to do this before now,” Poe says, half a question and a half a statement.

“It doesn’t matter since we’re not doing it now, anyway.”

“I just mean, you’re looking for comfort and a warm body, right? That’s all this is for you.”

“I don’t need to explain myself to you, but I especially don’t need you to try to explain my actions to myself,” Hux says, obviously reading some sort of insult into Poe’s words even though that’s not how he meant them.

He turns on his side with his back to Poe and Poe places an arm around his middle, bringing their bodies together but careful to keep his hips a respectable distance apart.

“I just want to make sure— look, you’re not some meaningless cantina hookup I won’t see ever again. It’s not worth doing something that might mess with what we’re actually supposed to be here for.”

“You are extremely conceited if you think sex with you will make me lose my mind and abandon our common objective. It’s sex, not a life-changing event. People do it all the time.”

 _Who are you doing it all the time with?_ Poe refrains from asking. It’s none of his business what Hux gets up to in his personal life. This weird dance they do — where they are maybe a little responsible for each other’s lives, where they have to trust the other not to turn around and betray them, where it feels like every time they meet they are the only ones in on a secret — has given Poe both the wrong impression and the desire to make a lasting one.

He doesn’t really know Hux and they don’t have time to get to know one another while there’s a war on, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things they could learn about each other.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe you’re right.” Or maybe the fact that he said those words is a sign that Poe is the one losing his mind. Poe nudges Hux until he’s on his back, settles on top of him, and moves his fingers to his tunic, finding a solid material under the fabric instead of skin. Body armor. “What do you like?” Poe says against his neck.

“Just stop if I ask you to,” he whispers, like it’s the dirtiest thing he’s ever said.

Poe moves his hands to Hux’s ass and encourages his movements, enjoying how he rocks unsteadily against his thigh. Soon enough they want more, moving their hands clumsily between their bodies, hastily unzipping until they can feel each other’s skin.

Hux pants under him, his heel pressing against his thigh with every thrust as Poe lets their cocks rub together, causing unbearable friction. Hux digs his fingers into his hips, his ass, pulling him closer.

“Hey, stop for a second,” Poe says and tries to disentangle.

He makes his way down Hux’s body, pulling his pants and underwear all the way off, and traces the flat off his tongue from the base to the tip of his dick, sucking it into his mouth and tasting him. Enjoying the way he stretches his lips, the way Hux sighs and tenses his thighs, the way he grips the sleeping bag and struggles to hold still underneath Poe.

Poe bobs his head up and down a couple of times. He comes up, applying suction to the tip, and goes back down, letting his jaw go slack until his lips brush against the base of Hux’s cock. He swallows around it and looks up when Hux pushes against his forehead. “I’m close,” he whispers.

Poe pulls off, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and leans over him, giving him a chaste kiss that Hux opens up for, melting against him. Hux comes as he’s kissing him, clutching the back of his shirt and panting between their mouths; his breath as warm as his body feels against Poe’s.

He presses his mouth to Hux’s shoulder, tangles his left hand with Hux’s, and uses his other hand to get himself off. He bites down hard on Hux’s skin as he comes and hears him gasp, shocked.

“Sorry, that’s gonna leave a mark,” Poe pants against his chest. “You know, in case you have a jealous fuckbuddy back in the First Order.”

“I don’t.” A beat. “Do I have one outside the Order?”

Poe laughs. “Maybe, though I’m not really the jealous type.”

The loud, blaring announcement from the intercom rouses him from where he was dozing off. Poe opens his eyes and is greeted by the bright, piercing white lights overhead. He’s certain they weren’t this bright when he got here. He feels warmth suffusing his body and groans in relief, letting it reach his aching muscles, his bones.

Hux is curled around him; his arm heavy around his middle, grounding and not suffocating. Hux’s weight on his back feels the opposite of what he expected — warm, welcoming, reassuring — but maybe Poe has just gone too long without the simple comfort of waking up or going to sleep next to someone. He closes his eyes momentarily, knowing this brief interlude will soon end.

He wakes up what he hopes is only a few minutes later. He wonders if he can abandon their sleeping bag without waking up Hux.

It’s a moot point, anyway. When he shifts, Hux sucks in a startled breath and tenses. Better get it over with then. He moves away and goes to check his datapad, checks the time. He does the math and realizes they’ve only been here seven hours. It feels like they’ve lived an entire lifetime in that short period of time.

Hux is staring at him intently when he puts the datapad down. He looks away quickly and gets out of the bag awkwardly. “You should be getting ready to leave.”

This is the definition of a bad idea, but sometimes Poe is partial to those. “We could do it again sometime. Somewhere we’re not in danger of freezing to death.”

Hux’s fingers freeze on the clasps of his boots and he sits down heavily on top of the bag. “Don’t you have a jealous fuckbuddy waiting for you back home?”

Poe looks away and makes his brain stop replaying the way he said the word _fuckbuddy_. “I’m looking to fill in that position, actually,” he says, feeling silly for playing along with Hux’s game of emotional repression.

“Is it a high turnover position?” It almost sounds obnoxious enough to mask all traces of insecurity. Almost but not quite.

“No, but it might require permanent relocation once we win the war.”

The silence stretches for what feels like hours before Hux says, “that sounds reasonable, but you will have to win the war first.” It’s not a no. He might be partial to Poe’s brand of bad ideas too.

He kisses Hux against the side of the ship before he leaves; wet, deep, and thorough, until Hux is flushed and breathless and it has nothing to do with the cold. Snowflakes cling to his eyelashes and Poe rubs their noses together.

“Pick a pleasure planet next time,” Poe says, grinning against his lips.

Hux scowls and pushes him away, the gesture coming across as more playful than annoyed. “There was plenty of pleasure on this planet,” he says before disappearing back inside.


End file.
